Beginning Has an End
by poepsychosis
Summary: The end and the beginning meet somewhere in the middle.
1. Chapter 1

**Friday evening.**

"Are you going to drive me to the hospital next week?"

It's a simple question, one that gets asked probably thousands of times per day day.

"No."

The problem with simple questions though, is that they often beg simple answers.

"Why not?"

But sometimes it's the simple questions followed by the simple answers that induce and conclude the most complex situations. Think about it.

_Will you marry me?_

_Yes._

Simple question. Simple answer. But these hypothetical people will spend the rest of their lives together, eternally intertwined by this five-word exchange. Well, half of them will anyway. What with the divorce rates and all. Excuse the tragic realism. I digress.

"Because."

"Because is not an answer. It's the beginning of an answer." She's right, so all I can do is shrug. "Beca, don't make this any harder than it is."

"No one could make this any harder than it is. Not even Ke$ha. Not even God."

"You don't believe in God."

She's right again. It's getting annoying.

"But I do believe in Ke$ha."

"Ke$ha probably _could_ make this harder than it is. She'd throw glitter in your eyes. Or whiskey. Or both."

"Don't fucking joke about this."

Her blue eyes barely register a reaction to the curse. Maybe I broke her of that peeve, or maybe she just figures it's not worth pointing out with so little time left between us. "Why can't I make a joke? You did."

"The one being left gets to make the jokes."

"Oh? I hadn't heard that."

"It's from Sex and the City."

"You don't watch Sex and the City."

Right again. I'm starting to feel a little bit like I can't breathe.

"Can you stop acting like you know me?"

"It does sound like it would be from Sex and the City though." Her version of an apology. We've worn out our use of the word sorry. I cringe inwardly at the fact that she doesn't bother to assure me that she does know me, but there's not much time to wallow before she's speaking again. "Please come to dinner with me. The girls miss you."

I glance up. She looks gorgeous. But I can't tell her that anymore. It would break down the bridge that I've carefully been building between us in these last summer months. "No."

"You're going to need them when I'm gone."

"Shut up."

I watch her gaze fall to the ground. It's bitter and mean and I know that and I hate myself for talking to her that way. But it's another brick in the bridge, and pretty soon I'm going to need that bridge.

"I'll bring you something home."

"I'm not hungry."

"But later -"

"Fuck, Chlo, just leave!"

And she does. I watch her go and stand still in the kitchen for a moment. This is it what it will be like when she's gone. My throat feels dry so I grab the nearest bottle and press it to my lips, closing my eyes and swallowing until I can't any more.

**August, the year prior.**

"They make me want to hurl," Fat Amy mumbled under her breath, hitching her blonde head of hair towards the entrance of the auditorium.

Chloe glanced up, bright blue eyes falling fixedly on Beca and Jesse.

"All I know is that to me," the brown haired boy was crooning, holding his hand over his heart and kneeling on the floor in front of his girlfriend. "You look like you're lots of fun! Open up your loving arms…"

Jesse stood. Ideally Beca would have played along and opened up her arms, but she wasn't that girl. Her eye rolls and mocking glares were part of her charm. He dragged his foot along the carpet, mimicking a bull about to charge before finishing the hook of the horrid Dead or Alive 80's song. "Watch out here I comeeeee…"

"You spin me right round, baby, right round…" Chloe hummed, pulling her eyes off the couple and returning her attention to the book in her lap. Auditions didn't start for another ten minutes and her Comparative Literature textbook for some reason felt more appealing than watching Beca and Jesse make metaphorical musical babies. She swung her summer tanned legs back and forth from the edge of her seat, continuing to hum the melody of Jesse's song until Amy interrupted her again.

"They make me want to -" she didn't have a chance to finish before Chloe cut her off.

"Hurl. You said that already. Aubrey will be here soon, and you know how sensitive she is about -"

"Aca-kill myself," the most humorous Bella finished flatly.

"That's not even clever…" Chloe mumbled.

Sliding into a seat next to Chloe, Beca rolled her eyes. "Jeez. Never thought that was gonna end. Can you die from cutesyness?"

"Oh, please," Chloe drawled back. "Drop the Kristen Stewart I-hate-everything act. You know you like it." She bumped shoulders with the younger girl and grimaced when she heard Amy making gagging noises on the other side of her.

Beca's eyes went wide, mouth hanging open in absolute horror as she was compared to the star of tween Vampire flicks. "I am NOT Kristen Stewart! And I do NOT hate everything just…I feel like I'm in an episode of Glee 98% of the time with him…it's starting to make me Aca-xausted."

Blinking for a moment, Beca let what she'd just blurted out sink in. How had that happened?

"Beca?" Amy began, leaning over and poking her head into the conversation. "Are you perhaps familiar with that sweet American movie in which the beautiful yellow dog contracts rabies and is subsequently killed by his master in an effort to rid him of his misery?"

"Old Yeller?" Chloe chirped. She was always the first to offer help…not always the quickest to notice where it was heading however.

"You, I'm afraid," Amy hung her head sadly here, and paused to shake it before finishing her sentence. "Have become that dog. Jesse effectively bit you, transferred his sickness onto you, and now someone must put you out of your misery." She glanced at Chloe and made a gun-cocking motion with her hand. "Who's gonna do it then?"

Chloe swat playfully at Amy, admonishing her in that motherly way that the girls all knew her for. "That's enough."

Amy obliged and settled back in to her seat, but not before pointing her finger gun at Beca behind Chloe's back and pulling the fake trigger. Her lips mouthed the word "bang" and then she turned her attention to the empty stage.

Beca's eyes went wide. "Jesus, she's right though! Amy, swear to me if I start to act like I'm in Grease or Hairspray or another of those insipid Broadway shows…promise me you'll plug me here."

"Hairspray wasn't that bad," Chloe mumbled distractedly, leafing through her book.

Beca ignored her. Raising her thumb, she pressed it to the bridge of her nose. "Right here, y'see? Between the eyes, severing the medula oblongata quickly and painlessly. I'll be dead before I hit the floor and everything will go back to normal."

"Like I said," Chloe soothed, patting Beca's bare knee before letting her fingers rest there for a second, eyes still on her book. It was one of those comforting moves that came naturally to her. She'd always had a soft spot for the younger dark haired cynic, and she didn't want there to be any issues between the Bellas so early in the year. "Ignore her."

Disturbed from her little rant by the feeling of Chloe's hand on her knee, Beca glanced down, then up at the older female, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. Chloe had always been touchy-feely and seemingly devoid of boundaries, but it had never really affected her before.

Maybe she was reading too much into it.

"Girrrrrlfriend," Amy crooned, doing her best ghetto voice in Beca's direction. "If it should get that unfortunate I solemnly swear that I will plug you like a tampon plugs -"

"We get it!" Chloe shrieked, covering her ears and closing her eyes.

"Christ. You're not twelve years old, biotch. Say it with me, men-stru-a-tion…Go on. Say it, then."

Chloe cleared her throat and settled her hands in her lap, regaining her composure. Fat Amy was funny, but there were freshmen around, and making a good impression was the most important thing for a Bella.

"No one will be plugging anyone." She looked back and forth between Beca and the blonde. "Clear?"

"You were probably quite grateful the last time you received yours," Amy mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"My what?" Chloe questioned, brow raising. Amy snickered, reaching out to high-five Beca - who returned the favor, but looked a bit guilty in doing so.

Chloe looked back and forth between them."My WHAT?"

"The last time you saw your Aunt Flo?" Amy clarified. "Are you pickin' up what I'm puttin' down? Surfed the crimson wave? Rode the cotton pony?"

Chloe's lips settled into a nice o shape as the realization dawned on her. She chose to set a good example. "That is inappropriate and I won't hear any more of it. I'll have you know that I spent the entire summer studying hanging out with my grandparents at Lake Erie and -"

"Sucking loads of man-cock?"

"AMY!" Chloe could feel her face turning bright red, and Amy laughed so hard that she fell out of her chair.

Beca couldn't help but snort a little, although she at least had the courtesy to try and hide it behind her hand. Amy might not be to everyone's taste, but there was no questioning the girl was funny. "Okay, okay. That's enough. Let's stop before Chloe's head explodes."

Chloe's glossed lips pressed into a thin grateful smile. It caught her a little by surprise that Beca didn't jump right in on the fun, but she was too grateful to question it too much.

"Aca-hola everyone!" Aubrey chirped, sliding into the row next to Beca. The movement elevated Chloe's surprise, but again, she suppressed it. Aubrey and Beca had a tumultuous past, and if they could all get along this year things would be much smoother.

"What?" Amy questioned, brows furrowing in confusion. "It is pronounced '_holla_,' white woman."

"I'm not speaking ghetto, Fat Amy. Spanish. Like from Mexico?" She paused. "And you're white."

Chloe could feel her mouth twisting into a smirk. Aubrey had spent the summer working Habitat for Humanity in Mexico. It seemed like an honest thing to do, but if Chloe knew her friend at all it was just something to put on a college application. She'd probably spent the eight weeks drinking tequila and screwing boys like…a whore on tequila. The redhead opened her mouth to ask about the trip but the auditions MC stepped onto the stage and interrupted her thought process.

"Here we go ladies."


	2. Chapter 2

"CHLOE! GET OVER HERE, BITCH!"

The voice is so distinctively Australian that I can't help but smile despite my sadness. It reminds me of another time - a time when Beca didn't hibernate her life away in our shared apartment, a time when people's main reaction wasn't pity when they looked at me.

"No Beca?" Amy asks, frowning a bit despite the fact that she already knows the answer. I shake my head, force a smile and head into the restaurant with her.

"I've got half a mind to head over there and go all Crocodile Hunter on her skinny little ass."

"Go easy," I urge, folding my arms over my chest as the cold air conditioning hits my skin. "She's not feeling well."

It's a lie and the blonde knows it, but she doesn't press. The table choruses in greetings as we sit down, and I'm the only one to order water in a long succession of variations on a margarita. Beca's been drinking enough for the both of us lately, and I'm sure tonight will be no exception.

Aubrey slides the bowl of salsa up against my plate, and I grab a chip from the basket in the middle of the table just to humor her.

My phones vibrates in my purse, and I dig it out hurriedly in hopes that it's Beca, but it's just my mom confirming my appointment next weekend. I type out a quick affirmative reply and slip the device back into my bag.

I don't know when things got this bad.

...Another lie.

It was after the diagnosis. But I don't want to admit that - don't want to accept the idea that Beca could be so selfish when I need her more than ever.

"Aca-scuse me?"

Amy's boisterous tone snaps me out of my thoughts, and I watch the waiter's bushy eyebrows shoot up in anticipation of her request.

"Si, senorita?"

"Quieres bacon?"

The same brows furrow in confusion, and mine do as well. Instead of rephrasing, she simply gets louder, as if that will bridge the language gap between them. "QU-IER-ES BA-CON? OINKY OINKY? EL PIGO?"

As if this isn't enough, Amy proceeds to pull the tip of her nose back towards the center of her eyes, clearly attempting to imitate a pig, but for what reason I have no idea.

"Que?" Apparently neither does our waiter.

"What on earth are you doing?" Aubrey asks exasperatedly.

"I'm asking him whether they have bacon!" Amy yells, shooting her hands up into the air and sloshing her frozen beverage onto the table in the process. Clearly she still feels misunderstood, because she's now standing, pig nose and all, and _snorting. _The small man blushes bright red, mumbles something, and darts off towards the kitchen.

"You asked him whether he _wants_ bacon," I correct lightly. "...And then you acted like a pig, implying that _you_ were the bacon."

Realization dawns on Amy's face and laughter erupts around the table, myself included. It feels good, but all I can think about is how Beca would react if she were here. She'd probably make some witty remark and follow it up with a condescending stare, but as soon as she made eye contact with me her smile would break and she'd laugh.

The collective laughter slowly ebbs around the table and turns to mildly drunk conversation. Food passes around the table, and the realization dawns on me how in reverse she and I have become. I used to turn her scowls into smiles, but now...

"BODY SHOTSSSSS!"

...aaand that's my cue to go.

The clock reads 9:24 when I climb into my car, and 9:42 when I walk into the apartment. Beca's small frame is curled up against the arm of the couch and the Food Network blazes brightly on television screen.

My lips turn up a little bit at the memory of the first time I ever heard her call this channel "food porn," but they quickly turn back down when my eyes fall on the half empty bottle of Absolut sitting on the coffee table.

She stirs, and I stand there for a moment, debating whether to wake her. Before I even realize I've made a decision, my hand is reaching for the remote. I turn the television off, pull a blanket up and around her shoulders, and head towards the bedroom.

Due to the Barden Bella's success the year prior, auditions held a much greater turnout. There were some really talented singers, and they'd actually have to make some cuts this year instead of just accepting everyone.

...And that's what the girls were all doing in Amy's humble abode. Weirdly enough, the odd girl came from a disgustingly affluent family, and her father footed the bill for a spacious off-campus apartment. The decor was a little too Housewives of New Jersey for Chloe's taste, but she'd never say that out loud.

Although, never may come very soon if the drinks kept flowing like they were. Aubrey was trying to protest, but the days of the Bellas being a dictatorship were long gone. It was a democracy now - a drunk one.

"THAT GIRL BLEW!" Amy screamed from the kitchen, shouting over the noise of the blender.

"I think we can come up with something a little more constructive than that," Chloe corrected. Her words were followed by a short giggle, and she laughed again when she realized nothing was really funny. After another sip of her margarita, she settled her head on Beca's shoulder. It was starting to feel a little heavy, and the couch they were sitting on, though printed in zebra, was actually quite comfortable. "I'm getting tireddd."

Shaken from her reverie by Chloe's slurred words, Beca smiled a little. "Want me to take you home?"

"Nononono," the older girl mumbled, shaking her head and causing strands of red hair to fall into her slightly flushed face.

She didn't drink too often - mainly because she was a relatively health conscious individual. Her mother had been a dancer, and her father had almost gone to the Moscow Olympics for the decathlon. Luckily they didn't put as much pressure on her as one might think, but they did raise her to take care of herself and those around her. For that reason, it was kind of funny that Beca was offering to chaperone her back to her place. If it had been later she may have acquiesced, but for now...they were celebrating.

"We're celebrating!" Chloe exclaimed, apparently gathering her second wind as she jumped off the couch and grabbed Beca's hand. The blood all rushed to her head at once, and she closed her blue eyes for a second in hopes to regain some composure. "Maybe...outside? For a second? Yeah?"

Mental note: attempt to speak in complete sentences. With that in mind, she tugged, perhaps a bit too roughly, on the shorter girl's arm and pulled her out on to the balcony. Beca trailed obediently after Chloe and once outside leaned on the screen door, trying to concentrate and not fall down.

"It's nice out, hm?" Chloe asked, grinning and leaning against the railing. Her eyes lit up suddenly. "That was a complete sentence!"

A tiny happy dance around the perimeter of the balcony ensued, and then ended seconds later a few inches in front of Beca.

"You look pretty," she cooed, leaning in and rubbing her nose against the brunette's. It wasn't that weird. It was just Chloe.

Blinking owlishly as she was complimented, she had opened her mouth to retort when she found Chloe nuzzling her nose in a way that was not entirely unpleasant.

"Uh...thanks?"

"Mhmmmm," the redhead replied slowly, not giving the affectionate nuzzle a second thought.

Chloe had always been far more forward than just about anyone else Beca had ever met.

It was strange and a little disorientating at first, but, over the course of the last year, Beca had grown accustomed to Chloe's extroverted nature. Still it didn't mean that she wasn't occasionally caught by surprise when the other young woman was so touchy feely with her. What alarmed her more was that she didn't ever recoil from it.

Chloe loved to love people, and she was good at guessing who she'd end up loving. For example, she knew, the second she laid eyes on Beca that the slightly broodish DJ was going to be the one to save them. She'd had this confident air about her that day they'd met in the quad. It was a quality that Aubrey would never possess, and one that Chloe herself didn't really have the capacity to put onto others. She wasn't a leader. She never had been, but she was happy to follow. Beca just so happened to be a little easier to follow than Aubrey...but she'd never let that slip to her best friend.

"Tell me something," Chloe demanded, sweetly assertive. She leaned back against the railing, sizing Beca up and waiting for something good.

"T-Tell you something?" Beca echoed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Well...what do you want to know?"

Chloe exhaled deeply, disappointment washing over her face. "You're playing the game wrong, Bec. It's not about what I want to know. It's what you want to tell me."

The girl's knack with people had always come naturally. Her innate understanding had never come as a result of prying into people's lives. On the contrary, she often found people opening up to her unexpectedly. It was nice to have people feel safety in coming to you. She felt like...a lighthouse. Or something. An emergency room? No. Those were horrible similes. She frowned for a second, wondering whether she'd said any of that out loud. One glance at Beca told her no. The younger girl still looked utterly uncomfortable to have the spotlight shining on her.

In any other moment, Chloe would've let her off the hook - joked it off and gone back inside. But for now, thanks to the alcohol, Beca's discomfort felt incredibly far away. In fact, it was gone in a matter of seconds. Still, her demeanor softened a little. People came to her, sure, but never Beca. Chloe had a feeling Beca never went to anyone for anything.

Maybe Jesse.

Maybe not.

She kicked her foot out slightly, tapping the toe of her boot on Beca's shoe. It was a subconscious move of encouragement, but Beca was still staring at her blankly.

"I had a brother," Chloe blurted, surprising even herself with the confession. Only Aubrey knew about this. Chloe wasn't one for sympathy. But Beca looked expectant now, so she rushed the rest of it out as well. "He died. When we were really young. It's not a huge deal. I don't even really, um, remember him."

She cleared her throat, and smiled. "Your turn."

Beca immediately felt her whole body tense.

"I-If that's a joke..." Her words were coming out slow. She was trying so hard to hold control of her emotions but at any second she was liable to crumble "Then it's not a funny one."

Chloe's face fell to a frown. "What do you mean?

"I...My older brother..." It was probably best to explain, just in case this wasn't all some horrible joke and Chloe actually knew what it was like to lose a sibling. "He was killed when he was in high school. Drunker driver."

Letting out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumped. "That's why my parents split up. Dad...got him the car. Mom never got over losing him. None of us did."

Seconds later, Chloe realized she had never heard such silence in her life. Strange, because she knew that there was a party going on inside, and a town moving through the night below them. She couldn't hear any of it. All she could see was Beca's shoulders fall and the sigh exhale from her body.

The redhead blinked out of her short-lived daze when the sliding glass door was thrown open by one inebriated Amy stepping on to the balcony and screaming something about bacon margaritas being the stairway to heaven.

"Go away," Chloe requested plainly, still somehow managing to sound sweet in the face of such a blunt demand.

"Go away, _she_ says," Amy mimicked, glancing to Beca with a grin that shortly fell at the sight of the brunette all curled up. She stood for a second, swaying, and then nodded and raised her glass - which, Chloe acknowledged with a frown, did have small pieces of bacon floating inside. "Cheers to the bacon gods!"

With that she was gone.

"Hey," she soothed, stepping up behind Beca and wrapping her arm's around the smaller girl's frame. "I didn't know."

Chloe thought again back to her original intention with this conversation. She couldn't remember what it was. Certainly not this.

"I didn't know," she repeated, squeezing tightly in an effort to convey her presence. She ran her palms up and down the other girl's arms, simultaneously attempting to ward off the cold and any other bad feeling lurking in the night air. And then, acting on mere instinct, Chloe nuzzled her nose into the space between Beca's shoulder and neck and dropped a light kiss on the skin there.

"Let me take you home," she mumbled quietly, lips still lingering on their claimed skin. Beca just nodded quietly.


End file.
